visions are seldom what they seem
by blairswaldorfs
Summary: He's an undercover detective. She's the mafia bosses daughter. This spells out trouble. -— serenanate, au.
1. i

**summary:** He's an undercover detective. She's the mob bosses daughter. This spells out trouble. -— serenanate, au.

**notes | **i should be studying as i have a maths test tomorrow and no clue as to what i'll be doing and a spanish test on tuesday but here i am instead. this was inspired by a gifset but you can't hyperlink here grr. pm me if you want it because this isn't really my idea at all. **IMPORTANT**: this is just a prolouge, and the rest of the story is set four months in the past so it makes no sense right now. the second chapter is actually half way finished i'm just too lazy to finish it and also i hated the format of how it looked going back in time on the same chapter k.

**visions are seldom what they seem**

serenanate

::

It's supposed to be his big break. His name up in lights in the detective business. _Nataniel Archibald_, so young but so talented — but he's still a stupid kid who'll fall in love on a whim with a beautiful girl with sparkling blue eyes and shiny blonde hair.

_You should of done better_, his superior's words still ring in his ear; he knows. He knows he should of done better, but he can't go back in time and turn the clocks around to get the job done right.

He walks home alone across the New York sidewalk, lights dazzling and the city full of promise; but he's broken all of his promises and his heart is crushed. He wishes he could blame someone, anyone; but he only has himself to blame.

He half expects his phone to call, a voice that can be as sweet as honey or as sharp as a knife filling up his ears with forgiveness, (or hatred; he'll take anything he can get) but he's not a fool. He won't hear that voice for a long time; if ever again.

Falling onto the couch when he gets home, briefcase sliding from his hands to the floor, he fumbles around in his pocket for a phone. It's time to take a page out of Colin Singleton's book and call her. It lands on her voicemail, (of course it does; he forgot she had caller ID): _It's Serena!_, there's a infectious laugh in the background and he can picture her head thrown back in glee as someone tells her something that makes her erupt in laughter, _I'm busy at th__e moment, but I promise I will return your call! Talk to you soon!_

The phone beeps, waiting for him to record a message. This will be one call she won't be returning, "Hey, it's uh, it's Nate. I just wanted to call and say I'm sorry, S and I-" Words are jumbled up, and the line goes dead and he's left thinking: When did I turn into a Humphrey?

She's probably with Dan Humphrey now, back in the arms of the Brooklyn Prince who wears an shield of plaid and waxes poetic nonsense about her laugh, and the curves of her face and the wrinkles that crinkle up under her eyes whenever her mouth moves. _Authors_, he growls with disgust at the word.

Maybe he should give it a go. Writing, that is. Scribble down a bunch of words and arrange them into a story. Maybe he could write _his _story; _their _story. He's drunk, the alcohol still fresh on his breath from his night out at a pub to forget the girl troubles that he's brought down upon himself and the trouble work had brought along because of it.

"What a _stupid _idea to win her back, Archibald." He curses, before reminding herself that she's not a prize to be won. He can't lie, and cheat, and use her and expect she'll be at his doorstep (she doesn't even know where you live, idiot) because he told her he loved her. That was one thing he never lied about. Using a sappy line that belongs in a movie or a cheap television show isn't going to get anyone anywhere.

He should be focused on work anyway, that's more important. Yet, the two thinks are interchangeable. Thinking about work leads to Serena, thinking about Serena leads back to work. It's a never ending cycle that will lead to a few more beers and his best friend returning from where ever the fuck he is to rescue him out of his own mess. Or he could turn up on Serena's doorstep, but the doorman would kick him out. He tried yesterday, and the day before; after _one too many beers. _

Eyes droop close softly, pale lids covering blue eyes that match hers. Images of what started everything replaying in his mind like an old film reel, her name falling off of his lips as he drifts off to another state.


	2. ii

notes; there were so many spelling errors in the last one, oh god. this is set a few months before, when they first meet and then it'll be the story of what goes on, up until the prolouge. idk how marfia's work, bye. also i think i got mob and mafia confused earlier but it's mafia. **triggers: **an ableist slur _is _used in here; i apologise in using the word in advance.

_visions are seldom what they seem._

—

_Serena, Serena, Serena_! Girls giggled as she graced past them, hands scribbling her autograph. Embracing her best friend who stood against a pole, frowning and rolling her eyes as Serena kissed her cheek while taking her hands. The blondes fans frowned, her name leaving their mouths as they screamed for her; screamed for _more_. Serena was sure she would never tire from the spotlight.

"Cheer up, B!" Serena grinned, brushing her best friends hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. Blair, once again, rolled her eyes as she muttered about _fucking fashion shows _and _driving her mother insane_. Eleanor Waldorf _was_ a nightmare, before fashion shows, after fashions shows— when there's no fucking show in sight. But, that's why Blair had her; to save her from the crazy.

"How's your mother?" Blair whispered as they found their seats, eyebrows raised. Serena pushes Blair's shoulders, telling her to _ssh_. This wasn't the place to talk about it. Blair's lips widened into a grin, eagerly awaiting details. If Blair Waldorf wasn't society's darling and didn't mind getting her hands dirty once in a while, well then, Serena was sure she would be enlisted in the mafia. Serena's mother, Lily van der Woodsen, had even offered her a spot on the team; Serena cringed just thinking about it— _her family was in the mafia; they were the head of it, the boss. _

It was a _complicated _family business. Lily had been disappointed when Serena had declined the offer at eighteen, choosing her own path instead but Lily understood; she had wanted to do the same at Serena's age but her own mother wouldn't allow it. Serena was always allowed to change her mind, though. Lily had always promised that they would be waiting for her, she gave her spot over to Eric instead— _there will always be a place for you_, her mothers words floated around her head. She kind of wished there wasn't.

Serena tried her best not to be involved with the drama that the mafia brought them but she couldn't complain, really. Years ago, back when carriages rode around NYC with girls in gowns and dashing gentlemen, Serena's great-great-great-great Grandmother, (or something, Serena had never paid much attention to the history lessons of her family) had found herself taking over the mafia. No one would of expected her to be the head of the deadliest mafia in New York; handling guns and weapons and throwing men down the river for not giving her enough information. Her grandmother had landed the role of society's darling; a title Blair now held. Without the mafia, though, her grandmother could of lost that title and cost their family everything. It was dangerous then, but at least the mafia secured her money.

Serena grew up in a life of luxury, thanks to that money; thanks to the business her mother now ran. As long as Serena pretended it didn't exist, it _didn't_. Most thought that mafia had long since died out; the streets of the Upper East Side clean of crime but high profile business men still disappeared, coming back worse for wear or not back at all; depending on how her mother felt that day. It was all very exciting.

The lights dimmed, the only spotlight being focused on the runway. Serena grinned, so glad that she chose a life of modelling over a life of crime. Her hands found Blair's in the dark, squealing together as the Waldorf models started walking down the stage. This was the life; a life of fashion and models and fans. She felt Blair relax next to her, sighing in content as she watched her mothers work. Serena really should be backstage, dressing up to walk down that runway— _but_, she had declined the offer. This was something she wanted to enjoy with her best friend.

—

"Wasn't it gorgeous?" Blair gushed at the after party, chatting happily with Kati, Isobel, Hazel, Penelope and Serena. Hazel laughed, complimenting Eleanor's work endlessly as Serena swiped another glass of champagne off of one of the trays floating around the room; eyes sparkling as they caught Dan Humphrey. _Dan Humphrey_, her high school love. She had met him at a party where he waited on them, upon seeing him at school the next day, she made it her mission to find out why a trust fund kid _worked _UES parties. Turns out he was a scholarship kid; it also turned out Serena was madly in love with him. Not anymore, though. She turned her attention back to the girls, laughing along with something Penelope said; the least she could do was be polite to them, Blair would continue to mock them and they would never amount to anything so— Serena took it upon herself to offer them love.

"Did you _see_ what she was wearing? So last season!" Kati gossiped. Serena crinkled her nose as she leant in for more details. These girls were fun. Being with them felt like high school again, felt like being sixteen and being on top of the world; the real world was different, good but different. Blair signaled over another waiter, grabbing more glasses for all the girls; excluding Serena.

"So where's your hot boyfriend, B?" Penelope inquired. Serena rolled her eyes at the brunette, she couldn't be more obvious about her certain affection for Blair's boyfriend if she tried. Blair pursed her lips as the rest of the champagne flowed down her throat, she shook her head as she inspected the ruby ring that was slipped onto her finger, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Serena felt her heart crush in her chest; something had happened, something that wasn't good and Blair hadn't told her? She felt more upset over the stinging betrayal than for her friends well being. The brunette waved her hand, eyes flickering— glistering with unshed tears, but a Waldorf never shows her emotion; they put on a smile and pretend everything is okay.

"Last heard he was in Germany. Wouldn't really know— I broke up with him over a month ago, girls." Blair laughed as she clinked glasses with Hazel— _single girls party!_ She had exclaimed. Serena could care less, wanting more than anything to drag her best friend away and ask if she was okay, what had happened. The questions burned her mind as she waited for Blair to stop conversing with the girls. Mindless gossip dragged on, dresses were dissed, divorces dished— the _usual _flooding through all the lips. Eleanor came around to greet them, kissing Blair and Serena on both cheeks and dragging them away from the group of gossiping girls.

Another twenty minutes of talking followed— at least Eleanor was amusing, and grateful; thanking the girls for their help with the show. Serena laughed, giving Eleanor a hug. "No problem!" She smiled, listening to Blair and Eleanor bicker back and forth about useless trivia and how the show went. Eleanor thought it went well, Blair thought it went great. Serena didn't think she would ever tire from Waldorf women either. Another socialite grabbed Eleanor's attention and she waved goodbye to the two girls.

"What happened?" Serena questioned as soon as the elder Waldorf was out of earshot. Blair grabbed her blonde best friends arm and dragged her towards the bathroom, kicking all the girls out that were inside. Blair wrings her hands, shuffling her feet as she tries to come up with a suitable answer; one that will satisfy Serena. It's no use, nothing will satisfy the blonde; not even the truth.

"I don't—" The words seemed to fail on Blair, what was there to really say? "He decided that we needed to take a break. I was, _ashamed_, Serena. I was ashamed." Blair's voice broke, turning into a tiny, fragile whisper. Serena engulfed the tiny brunette in her long limbs, hugging her tightly until she squeezed— the plan was to not let ago until the girl burst.

"He's an idiot, B. You deserve _so _much better," Serena whispers into her hair. The two girls pull apart, and after Blair has reapplied her makeup and looks _nothing_ less than perfect, the two of them exit the bathroom.

—

Nate Archibald went through the files on his desk, stopping short as he stopped a blonde splashed across the page, an infectious smile on her lips as she played with a puppy on a bed. Even if her name wasn't printed on the page, he would of know it anyway— _Serena van der Woodsen. _He had met her exactly twice, falling in love for the night both times. She was _infectious_, her smile, her laugh— everything about her, you wanted to copy, to mimic.

"Found your newest case, Archibald." Nelly Yuki sat on the desk next to Nate, eyes pointing down to the picture in his hands. He leaned back in the seat, raising an eyebrow.

"Involved with the mafia," Nelly stated, an unbelievable laugh fell from her lips. "Went to school with her, can you believe it? She was _always _the center of attention, little miss perfect— even when caught snorting cocaine in the schools bathrooms." Nate laughed at the story, leaning forward in his seat to pick up the rest of the case. Mafia? _Really_?

"She's a model, Nelly. I've met her." Nate stated proudly, feeling the sting of her lips on his cheek. It was a brief, fleeting kiss at the end of a _wild_ night— a night that Nate won't be able to forget. Ever. Not because the girl he was with was pretty, but because it was exciting. More exciting than this life, believe it or not, he would sarcastically remark. Nelly raises her eyebrows, leading forward in excitement—

"Really?" She whispers, as if the news he had delivered was the most fascinating in the world. "Fucked her too, huh?" Nelly asks breezily, "Heard _everyone_ in New York has." Nelly gossips— Nate would of never taken her as that kind of person, honestly. He frowns.

"No. Not that it's any of your business. Where do you get off thinking you can comment on someones sex life?" Nate's eyebrows furrows as he waves Nelly off and focuses on the paper in front of him. Nelly shrugs, jumping off of the desk and fixing her badge— "Remember who's in charge, Archibald." Are her parting words. _How could he forget? _Despite being the same age, Nelly had it all— everything Nate's heart desired. Respect. Power. High up in the detective business.

He really has to ace this case. It could cost him his carer if it goes wrong. It seems _big _by reading what it says. Expose the mafia— that's something they've all been trying to do since day one but they have a lead this time. Nate grins, glad that this case was assigned to him. He has connections to be able to follow up the lead. He flicks open his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he lands on _S_. He doesn't think he has Serena's number but he can at least check, negative— like he predicted. He scrolls back up to _C_, pressing on Chuck's name.

"Chuck— yeah, hey, mate! I need a favour—" Nate pauses, cringing as he hears _certain noises _in the background of the call. Chuck telling him to wait a minute, Nate leans back in his seat, rolling his eyes as he listens to the hushed words— he can't make out what is being said but he's enjoying the free entertainment.

"What can I do for you?" Nate grins. He hasn't actually talked to Chuck in a while— despite the whole being best friends thing, the two had been out of touch in a while.

"Set up a date with Serena and I?" Nate rearranges the pens on his desk as he waits for an answer, he hears Chuck curse on the other end; a bitter laugh.

"Nate— Blair and I broke up. I don't have any connections to Serena, anymore. I'm able to share her number but you'll have to do all the hard work yourself; I doubt she'll be willing to do me any favours. That includes entertaining my best friend for the evening." Nate rolls his eyes at Chuck's comment, wanting to offer Chuck a sorry that things didn't work out between Blair and him but he saves himself from doing so. If the noise he heard earlier was any indication, his best friend is doing _fine_. Nate scribbles down the number Chuck reads out to him before hanging up.

He wonders if calling her is a smart idea, he was hoping that Chuck would be able to do all the hard work for him and all he would have to do was show up and get the dirt on whether or not she was involved with the mafia. He curses under his breath, he doesn't have a fucking choice, does he? He needs this case, he needs to be able to show his superiors that he's serious; that he's _good_.

He dials the number, letting it ring.

—

"Helloooo?" Serena's voice rings through the phone, an instant smile being brought to Nate's lips.

"Hey, Serena! It's Nate— Nate Archibald, I don't know if you remember me—"

"I remember you!" Serena laughs, he can imaging her leaning back against the headboard of a bed— "How are you, Nate?" She asks. His heart warms up a little bit, did he forget to mention that Serena was able to make you feel like you're the greatest person on the planet?

"I'm good, how are you, Serena?" He pauses, waiting for a response but in the background all he can hear is commotion. _Wait! I'm just stepping outside_, she tells him quickly in a rushed breath. Suddenly the noise stops, the familiar city noises the only thing playing in the background.

"I'm _real _good. Hey, do you maybe wanna catch up for coffee tomorrow? I'll text you the details! I think I have your number on my phone, I'm just a little busy right now. Bye!" She hangs up with out another word. Nate lets the phone drop onto his desk. _Well the first step was easy_. He can't help but see it more as two acquaintances catching up rather than being on an undercover mission. _Fuck_— he's glad he doesn't know her too well, not well enough for her to know that he's a cop. He hopes Chuck hadn't mentioned it or anything. It could blow the whole thing.

He slides his phone back into his pocket and gathers up his documents. Going home to go over everything was a better option, right now. He shrugs on a coat and orders a taxi to take him home— his mind only full of Serena. He swears he sees her as they drive past the streets, a flash of blonde hair and wide blue eyes— his attraction to her wouldn't get in his way, though. She's Serena van der Woodsen, he doesn't stand a chance in hell. He's just another wistful boy who shouldn't _really _be thinking of her any more than a friend. He can't even call her that, though.

His shoulders slump. This was work. _Work work work_— he reminds himself. But the last time he had seen Serena, well— _that's _a story for another time, he guesses. Cheek tingles, his lips tingle. She'd kissed him on the lips in a game of truth and dare, a sloppy kiss that he had seen forgotten about but the kiss on the cheek? He couldn't forget if he tried.

He _wasn't _this guy— he wasn't gross. He didn't want to be thinking of Serena like this, he sighs. It's probably the excitement of seeing her again, she's an exciting person who just happens to be gorgeous. Nate pushes Serena out of his mind, not completely, he needed to go over his game plan for tomorrow. What would he ask? How would he happen to _casually _approach the mafia subject? He rubs his temples, opening the newspaper he had picked up earlier in the day but hadn't had the time to read.

**MAFIA STRIKES AGAIN** was the headline title. The world couldn't love Nate more if it tried. This was it, his perfect chance— he would mention the article, gauge her reaction and see if she was involved or not. Then, he could either dig deeper or leave her alone. He hopes he gets to leave her alone, Serena was sweet. He didn't want her to be mixed up in this.

"We're here," Nate glanced up at Empire hotel. He didn't _really _live here but he has a suite here that he likes to come to when he doesn't want to go home and face his parents. He cringes just thinking about the fact he still lives with them, he had left them but they had demanded he stay with him once he had returned from university to work in the police force. It was something he had stumbled across, with no prior knowledge or degree or anything, really— he had been hired and his parents wouldn't let him leave their prison.

Chuck owned the Empire. Previously lived at the Palace and (maybe previously?) lives in a penthouse with Blair. Nate sighs as he enters the suite, dropping his stuff off on a table. He would sort through it after a glass of scotch. Write up a plan. After, a _much_ needed drink.

—

_a/n: _blair\chuck will be a subplot, i guess but i don't know how huge.


End file.
